Breadcrumbs
by Zerbinetta
Summary: The chains weaving the prison had to start somehow... mild Atton/LSFE


**o.O.o**

**Names**

**o.O.o**

Two days ago, Atton Rand would have considered his current situation something between a juma-induced hallucination and a particularly nasty nightmare. Yet here he was, piloting a run-down freighter (not that there was much piloting to do to distract him) with a not-so-silver-tongued crone a rusty tin can of a utility droid and what apparently was the only Jedi left in the galaxy who claimed not to be one.

Good riddance, part of him was saying. This was what he had wished for; a galaxy free of Jedi… once upon a time. But he had to admit, if a choice had to be made about who should be the specimen representing the extinct Order to the galaxy, he approved of the selection. He had approved of it more before she had found that pesky miner uniform or retrieved her former clothing from the room on the Harbinger. But it was certainly a wake-up call worthy of remembrance. He knew Jedi were supposed to be physically fit, but _what_ a way to bring it to his attention.

Jedi were faces to him. Condescending, overbearing, arrogant, conceited…

She was still behind him, trying to fiddle with the hyperspace coordinates, to no avail.

"You're still here?" he leaned back, casually, as if he owned the shop. "I thought you'd want to go back to the dorms to, uh, meditate, or whatever it is you Jedi always do when you're not practicing your various ways of annoying us normal people."

"I got quite enough sleep in that kolto tank, thank you." She plopped into the copilot seat in an artless manner that was thoroughly un-Jedi-like. Everything about the way she looked and acted was against the stereotype of the Jedi. Yet _something_ about her screamed that she was one of them, or so it seemed to the still-keen senses of a hunter. He simply could tell… somehow. "Besides, I don't think I could relax sufficiently. Might as well practice my powers of annoyance."

The faint crease or quirk of her lips clashed with the icy color of her eyes. Jedi weren't supposed to smile. Jedi weren't supposed to spout wit in an effortless manner. Jedi weren't supposed to look like her.

"You know, no wonder the Jedi exiled you." he drawled with milder mockery than usual, smirking in her general direction. "I was actually right about you being a comedian."

The slump of her shoulders showed both a silent sigh and a desire to avoid that topic. "I wish it was because of that." A moment passed, ending when she flashed him a slow, brilliant but tight-lipped smile. No touching that topic, he could get a hint. "So, you never did tell me how you ended up in that highly amusing cell back on Peragus."

_Sure, sweetheart. A guy wanted to set us up for a blind date. All right, all right, it was kind of like this. You remember when you were, uh, drugged and unconscious? Well, I may have been promised a rather tidy sum of credits to get you and a few idiot miners off that rock to collect the convenient Exchange bounty… wait, what are you doing with that vibroblade…?_

"Who knows?" Atton shrugged the question off. At this point, it was better if she didn't know. Of course, it was likely that he would have changed his opinion of the plan drastically once he had seen her. Jedi weren't supposed to look like her. "Security likely had a boring day or just needed to throw someone in a force cage once in a while to look like they were doing something. Make your pick."

She tilted her head in interest, blue eyes fixing him with an unblinking stare. Even if she hadn't said a word, it would still feel like an interrogation. Though it would help if she was still half-naked. Or three-quarters so. The simple clothes _really_ didn't do her justice.

He tried to allow his eyes to flicker down to confirm that suspicion and possibly annoy her sufficiently to abandon this line of questioning, but she spoke before he had the chance to do so.

"I'm more curious about how you got to Peragus in the first place." she mused, her face almost unreadable. "Hardly the kind of spot one finds your type at."

Atton snapped to attention at that, partly wary, partly amused. "My type?" Sweet Sith, the Jedi was trying to classify him. This should be interesting. "What's that supposed to mean?"

This time, she waved the question away with an actual motion of her pale hand, though there was no Force behind the gesture. "Pazaak, juma juice and less than law-abiding tendencies. A scoundrel, in short." This time, the smile was real, though she was unable to keep her eyes from giving a Hoth-like impression. "You get points for the snarky retorts, though."

_Ah, I was wondering where the famed Jedi __condescension was._

Strangely, this irritated him.

It was easily masked with a roll of his eyes. "I leave you with the hag for ten minutes and you go all Jedi on me. You do what you have to do to get through the galaxy, you know?" Apparently, she didn't. "I make my own rules, sweetheart."

One. Two. Wait for it.

"_Excuse_ me?"

Three.

There was no question about it – she bristled at the endearment, sleazy as it was, even though her voice was between a choked laugh and calm irritation. An oddity, to be sure.

"I said that I-"

"Here's my rule, then – no calling me that."

Poor choice of words. "All right, angel." He had to call her _something._

Atton would bet a whole twenty credits on being able to freeze a glass of juma with the barely hidden glare he received for that. "I might not know what that is, but I'm banning nicknames for myself on principle."

"Angels are supposed to live round Iego, on the moons. They're said to be the most beautiful creatures in the galaxy, though some people think they're just delusions of guys who've had too much juma juice." He didn't even know why he was explaining this – no, wait, he did. No Jedi had ever admitted to not knowing something. And it was a reflex, maybe. He didn't really think about it. "That kind of applied to you when you showed up in that great outfit."

He grinned at her for good measure, with every hint of a leer. No trace of a blush, unfortunately, but much steel, at least for a few loaded instants.

"Savor the memories, then, because it isn't going to happen again anytime soon." Eventually, then? He wanted to suggest that, since she wasn't writing it off indefinitely. Maybe the Jedi liked him; that would be a first. "Thanks for reminding me that I wanted to get new clothes when we get to Telos, though."

"I'll be happy to help you pick, though I'm sure it won't come anywhere close to that underwear…"

"Atton."

"…unless it's a two-piece look you're going for. I'd approve of _that_ completely." He pointedly ignored the warning tone in her voice. Jedi code and all that forbade her from doing anything rash, so if the old witch said she was a Jedi again, he was safe now. "Who knows? You might actually find whoever you're looking for easier by, uh, standing out." Surprisingly, she seemed to get his drift.

Even more surprisingly, she answered a question he hadn't asked.

"I didn't come back to the Republic to look for anyone – someone was looking for me."

The pilot fought back a snort. The gullible sort, then, was she? Oh, wait, she didn't know about the bounty back then. It made him wonder where she had been for the past ten years, though. "I always knew the Jedi were a cult, but I had no idea you were an underground one."

Ten years! What had she been during the Mandalorian Wars, a pimple-faced teenager?

"Might as well be now, I suppose." Her voice was laced with sadness as she looked out into the space the ship was soaring through. "It would be better than nothing."

"Don't you hate the Jedi?" He blurted out the question before intending to. "I mean, no offense if you still feel like you are one, but they obviously didn't if they went to the trouble of kicking you out. Not a lot of them who didn't turn Sith get that kind of special treatment. And you don't look anything like a corpse, so I'm assuming you're not one of those fallen Jedi types."

She wasn't, he could see that. From the way she had offered to risk herself instead of him in the mining tunnels, he could tell. Or maybe she simply considered him useless in that matter, which was a less pleasing alternative.

"It's…" The Jedi looked weary and wouldn't look at him before composing a neutral reply in her head. "It's a long story and I wouldn't be very cryptic if I told you everything, would I?"

"All right, keep your ex-Jedi secrets." He didn't care. He was simply along the ride and needed amusement. And assurance that she had absolutely no idea who he was. "And I mean keep them as in don't go running around telling people you were one, even on Telos. Force cages are bad enough, but I think the Exchange wouldn't bother with those."

For a moment it seemed as if… she was indeed smiling, if with the hint of patronizing and more amusement than thankfulness. "As always, your concern is noted."

Sithspit, _why_ did he have to get stuck with a crazy ex-Jedi whose most annoying trait was turning out to be the fact that she wasn't ugly in any sense of the word. Neither in the hard-living way of the hag back in the crew quarters…

…or ugly like him, with stains that ran deeper than any blemish.

He didn't care. Off-limits. Crazy. Jedi. Do-gooder. Rather pretty. Pursued by goggle-wearing insect-like Sith.

_Yeah, but _Force_ she has a great…_

Jedi.

"Look, you're pretty handy with a vibroblade and don't make me want to shove you out of the airlock the moment you show up, but I'm not sticking around for more friends of Sleeps-with-vibroblades to show up. I'm just here for the free ride, not to save the galaxy or help you or queen crone back there. And because I have no choice. Soon as we get to Telos, you're on your own."

He _didn't _imagine the defeated slump of her shoulders this time. "At least something in the galaxy is still normal." she murmured softly, barely giving him a second to realize he had upset her before she rose and made a move to leave the cockpit.

She took two paces before he managed to get the words out.

"Hey, wait." She did.

_Tell her to ditch the hag and come with you. Without the hag, she doesn't have to become a Jedi again. She __won't have a way to do it. give it a year or two of hiding out on Nar Shaddaa and traveling the galaxy for the Sith to give up and then. Lie and say you're sorry. _

But he was sorry – that she was a Jedi, that it radiated from her, a mark she would _never_ be rid of, the single thing he disliked intensely about her. that even now, at the edge of space, he could picture her in robes and with a lightsaber in her hand as easily as he could recall her almost-bare form from a few hours ago.

"Look, uh, not to damage your cryptic routine, but I didn't even catch your name." Atton could imagine several, but each was as improbable as the next. But he needed the name, her name, because in his mind, she wasn't simply _Jedi_ any longer.

"I didn't drop it." she said, her face the picture of serenity, leaving him to ponder the her ease with continuing the cryptic routine and her retreating figure.

Leaning back on the pilot's chair again, Atton Rand sighed inwardly. He was still rather of the opinion that this wasn't worth all the trouble, but…

_Lust at first sight, buddy. __First sign of trouble._

Ten minutes later, the comlink he still had from Peragus beeped quietly, startling him from his inner moral whether or not considering a Jedi's cleavage (who knew they actually had them?) and smile – in that order – pleasing was morally acceptable.

"I found a deactivated droid here, so I'll play around with it a bit. Give me a shout once we get to Telos."

"Will do, Your Jediness." he quipped rather lazily, not really expecting any reply.

"Lady Camoran, if you must." Apparently, she was over any issue she had with him, which was good. "But I'd prefer Celia."

There was a momentary pause in his thoughts as he placed the name to the image of her in his mind and deemed it a pleasing match. But that of course meant…

_Like right after the introduction. The trouble alarm hereby goes haywire._


End file.
